Saturday, June 07, 2014

Adventures in the Adirondacks

You know you're in for a chillaxing long weekend when a Google search of the destination brings up images of a rustic wooden chair instead of a map. And not just any wooden chair mind you, a chair with a back so ramrod-straight it must have graduated from West Point down the road. The kind of chair that shows up every summer in the Abercrombie catalogue, a worthy prop for plaid-clad All-Americans boys and their girl-next-door prom queens. Heck, it's as American as Paul Bunyan eating an apple pie in the back of an F-150 and then suing Jonny Appleseed when he hits a bump and burns his tongue.
 

Nice digs, once you finally get inside that is. After a bungled airbnb operation that involved a locked door, a turned off cellphone, and a 4am scramble to find a hotel within a 100 mile radius that's not a truck stop encrusted with the dried fluids of last night's occupant, the key is finally procured the next morning. You go get 'em Schneiderman.



Oh, so when they said they have a pool...


The oppressive humidity is just starting to ramp up back down in Manhattan, but up here in the Adirondacks the last frost was just last week. Thank goodness this fireplace comes with a dial, because Team J00ster is 0-2 versus emergency rooms on Memorial Day.



There's an app for that.



Caroga Lake is one of those places that feels like a throwback to the 1950s. You know, that same feeling you get when you step off the plane at La Guardia on a rainy day and realize those are buckets catching leaks in the roof, not a contemporary water feature designed by Norman Foster.



Relics from a simpler time, when polar bears ate ice creams and sundaes didn't have to be topped with foraged elderberries and caramel sprinkled with hand-ground rock salt to taste good.



Looks a little bit cold for swimming. Then again, you could be spending the unofficial start of summer on snow shoes.



Central Park can't lay claim to greenery like this, and even better there's no shadow from the $100 million penthouse at One57 to constantly remind one of one's inferiority.



You mean groves out here don't come with sponsorship? I could have sworn this was The Elms, Proudly Presented by J.P. Morgan Chase & Co.




A rugged mountain man checks the beaver traps one last time before sundown. Lucky he did that REI half-day course on Beaver Resource Management the other day.



With the rain closing in and the sun low on the horizon the team leader calls off the final push to the summit. There's bigger goals on the table today, namely some juicy burgers back home on the barbecue.



 
That means two pots of gold, right? Hey, don't laugh, there's people out there who bought bitcoins too.



If we paddle hard enough we can make it all the way back down the Hudson to New York. But make sure you master that whole paddle in sync thing, the last thing we want is to be shipwrecked on the Jersey side.



Little House in the Adirondacks. More like Real Housewives of the Adirondacks.



Save your energy ladies, what Rock neglected to mention is that this hike doesn't end at the summit. There's an old fire tower marking the peak that's just asking to be climbed.



Apparently this is the time of the year the black bears come out of hibernation. Generally they're feeling a little peckish right about now.
 


Doesn't look entirely stable. Send Rock up to test it out. If worst comes to worst you won't have to read all about it on this blog.




Anyone spot any forest fires? No, but I think I can see Chris Christie from here. Looks like he's standing on the George Washington bridge and blocking three and a half lanes. And that's after the gastric bypass.